Consider This
by EruditeWitch
Summary: Harry and Ron are in a happy relationship. Draco is not. He can't help but watch...and want.


Written for the HP_Spring_Fling fest on Livejournal.

I was given the following prompt:

**A Place**: The library. Or by the lake. Ooh, or the Quidditch changing rooms... you decide.  
**An Item**: A quill  
**A Prompt**: the lyrics "I've tripped again and things are starting to get interesting" from "Condider This" by Anna Nalick. I think AU could be really great for this, but that's really just my opinion, so do with it what you will. :)

_  
**A/N:** I had some trouble with this fic, so I focused on the old standby of SMUT SMUT SMUT. Have fun everyone, and enjoy the fest! Thanks to Buler for the beta work._

_I've tripped again and things are starting to get interesting  
Don't give me choices cause I can't decide_

Draco shut the soft green curtains on his four poster bed tightly, hoping that it was signal enough he wanted to be left alone. Being back at Hogwarts for his Seventh Year wasn't the picnic in the park it should have been, and Draco just needed time to himself. With his family disgraced, his parents in Azkaban, and his own arse saved by none other than Hero of the Wizarding World himself Harry Bloody Potter, Draco was a pariah in a school he once ruled over. Not that he wanted to rule anymore anyways.

After years of witnessing the Dark Lord's cruelty first hand, and experiencing it more times than he ever wanted to reflect on again, Draco was ready to forget everything and move on. Trying to pick up the pieces was hard though, when so many people lost loved ones, and the looks of malice and loathing as he walked down the hallway were enough to send chills down anyone's spine. It didn't help matters that the only other Slytherin in his year to return was Blaise Zabini, and the arrogant prick thought that Draco was his to claim.  
His relationship with Blaise had started over the summer, and went rather smoothly. He showed up at The Manor after Draco's parents were sentenced, and was the friend that Draco desperately needed. Blaise dealt with Draco's moods as he banished any dark artifact and remnant of the Dark Lord from his house violently, cursing his fate and his parent's stupidity. Blaise held Draco when the memories of Dumbledore's death and his resulting punishment at the hands of the Death Eaters got to be too much to bear, and when the Hogwart's letters came, Blaise had convinced Draco to go back, telling him how much he loved him and lavishing Draco with affection when he said it back.

However, when they started to plan going back, Blaise began acting differently. When they went shopping for their school supplies, Blaise was convinced that Draco was looking at other blokes and became so angry he had shouted at Draco in the middle of Knockturn Alley. Draco just chalked it up to nervousness about going back to school and let it go. But then, when the term started, and Blaise began making rules about when Draco could go out and who he could talk to, Draco started feeling very strangely. He wasn't a house elf; he wasn't someone to be walked all over like that. He was a Malfoy, and even if his name was tarnished, his pride wasn't. He was beginning to become offended and wary about the angle at which Blaise was approaching their relationship.  
That all came to a head the night that they had sex for the first time. Draco wasn't ready, and he definitely didn't want to be buggered any time soon, but Blaise wouldn't take no for an answer. He coaxed, begged, and eventually threw veiled threats of violence at Draco until he gave in. It hurt, and Draco didn't even come, but Blaise was satisfied, and treated him much better the next day. Their encounters got a little better, and soon Draco learned to enjoy it, but he certainly wasn't in love, and wondered if he ever had been. Draco would never admit it to himself, but he was a bit frightened of leaving Blaise, of appearing to back down from this challenge.  
When he heard Blaise walk into the dorm, Draco slowed his breathing and rolled on his side, hoping that Blaise wouldn't wake him up. He just couldn't take it today. Some Hufflepuff boy who lost his brother in the war had cast a stinging hex on Draco, and he spent an hour in the hospital wing making the sting go away. He didn't cry though, but instead cast every merciless but legal curse he could think of back at his assailant. Draco just wanted to sleep, wanted to dream about better days, though he could scarcely remember what those days felt like or if they had ever existed.

Luckily, Blaise didn't bother him tonight.

Draco woke up the next day before Blaise, rising early for a few quick warm up drills before the match against Gryffindor. As the only Seventh Year Slytherin, they had made Draco captain, and despite having so many young members, Draco thought his team was pretty good. He was the seeker of course, and there was a quick, tall Sixth Year boy named Wilkins as his keeper. He had three mediocre chasers, who flew well but couldn't handle the quaffle to save their lives, and two brilliant beaters that could rival Crabbe and Goyle in size and IQ. They had no chance of beating Gryffindor's expert team, especially when Potter and The Weasel were at the helm, but he would never admit that.

After a few laps around the pitch, Draco chased around The Snitch until the students started to file into the stand. Then, he met his team in the changing rooms for a bit of a pep talk and sent them out feeling proud, even if they were all a little insecure. Slytherins never showed weakness, after all. He walked onto the pitch with his head held high, his robes perfectly starched and pressed, and his flying polished and elegant. Losing with no emotion showing that you cared one way or the other was what a Slytherin did best. Everything was about saving face.

Draco met Potter's eyes, the sharp green irises cutting through him, and he looked away quickly before he could get pulled in. When she shook hands over Madame Hooch's broom, Draco tried to ignore the spark that crawled up his arm. Potter could never have that effect on him. Hero or not, he was still a mangy, half blooded Gryffindor with poor taste in clothes and worse taste in friends. There was no way in Hades that Draco could ever want Potter.

The game was surprisingly close, but in the end, even catching the snitch didn't bring Slytherin ahead. When Potter flew past him a little too closely, and Draco felt a chill run down his spine, he was absolutely livid.

_"Who the fuck does Potter think he is? The arrogant prick didn't even reprimand his beaters for practically knocking out one of my Chasers, despite it being an obvious violation,"_ Draco thought angrily. He resolved to speak with Potter in his team's changing room post haste.

He walked quickly into the Gryffindor changing rooms to find them empty. He was about to turn around and leave when he heard the shower running. Draco froze; the thought that Potter could be the one showering had made all the blood rush from his head. He couldn't deny the pull any longer, and made his way toward the showers at the end of the room. He peeked as subtly as he could around the corner.

Potter was alone under one of the sprays in the center of the room, his body shining and slightly red from the steaming water. Draco has to stifle a gasped when his eyes raked over Potter and found the other man fisting his cock, pumping up and down frantically, his head thrown back in pleasure. Draco was suddenly and painfully hard at seeing Potter's pink cock disappear into his calloused hand, and he longed to just walk up to Potter and take over the job…no questions asked. When Potter let out a low moan, Draco found himself hastily undoing his quidditch uniform and grabbing his own throbbing erection.

Draco watched as Potter thrust his hips forward, his moans growing louder. When he reached up to pinch one of his nipples and cry out, Draco's free hand twitched with the need to create that same sound on Potter's beautiful lips. Draco knew Potter was getting ready to come by the way his thrusts and movements had become erratic and his breathing more frantic. The thought of Potter coming undone sent Draco over the edge.

When Harry…no, Potter…groaned, his come shooting onto the red tiled floor and the water washing it all away, Draco had to bite his lip hard to keep from crying out. His own release spilled into his pants, Harry's name on his lips in a silent plea for something more. After a few steadying breaths, Draco hastily laced up his quidditch trousers and rushed out of the room.

_My mind is soaked in words  
I've come to terms with all my insecurities  
And purity's no friend of mine_

Draco closed his eyes as Blaise entered him, imagining it was him, hovering over Potter and pounding against his perfect, smooth arse. Draco rocked his hips up to meet every thrust, biting his lips and keeping his eyes tightly shut. If he didn't look up, he could pretend he was somewhere else, anywhere else. As Blaise kissed him softly and nipped at his shoulder, Draco's lips tingled with the desire to lavish the same affection on Potter.

Draco couldn't leave Blaise though, he was all he had. No one else would even look at Draco, and if it weren't for Blaise, he doubted many people would talk to him. Even as Quidditch captain, his team barely said a word to him. He was a pariah, a piece of Deatheater trash with a Dark Mark to prove it. Who would want to be around him? Draco hardly even wanted to be himself when he looked in the mirror. He wished he had been more courageous, had tried to get away. But Voldemort had threatened his parents, and Draco needed to protect them.  
He felt Blaise's cock twitch inside of him, and he came thinking of filling Potter's tight channel. As Blaise moaned his name, Draco sighed in relief, his secret safe. He was always good at masking his emotions; you have to be to survive as a fearful and reluctant member of Voldemort's army. As Blaise began to fall asleep, his hot breath on the back of Draco's neck, he closed his eyes and tried to imagine how Potter breathed when he slept.

His fantasies were getting the better of him, so the next day Draco watched out of the window of the arithmancy room, waiting for Gryffindor to get finished with practice before sneaking down to the pitch to try to steal another glimpse of Harry…no, Potter in the shower. He watched the rest of the team leave, and sure enough, Potter didn't come out. Draco felt a jolt of excitement at the thought that he might get to see Potter again. He hadn't looked forward to something this much since his old days of Quidditch, and the anticipation made Draco feel alive.

Sure enough, Draco heard Harry's breathy moans, but he was unnerved to note no steam coming from the back showers. He followed the panting and groaning, as he got closer to the lockers, almost jumped when he heard a deep, guttural groan that could not possibly have come from Harry's slightly melodic voice. Draco paused momentarily, not wanting to look, afraid of what he might see.

"Oh fuck, yes!" Harry shouted, and Draco just needed to look.

"You like it? You like my cock inside of you? You want me to fuck you hard?" The Weasel was grunting, pressing kisses to Harry's…no, Potter's neck.

Harry's hands were up, gripping the edge of the top of the lockers tightly, his knuckles white. His practice shirt was still on, though The Weasel's hands were bunching it up as they wrapped around him, pinched his nipples, and steadied his hips. His lace up quidditch pants were around his ankles, tangling in a pool with Weasley's. Weasley's cock was out, his laces undone on his uniform trousers and his pants sliding low down his backside. Draco could just make out the roundness of his pale, freckled ass. He felt his mouth water as Weasley's muscles clenched each time he pressed forward into Harry, his arms wrapped around him to keep him from slamming into the lockers.

"Gods, feels so good, Ron," Harry moaned, bending slightly at the waist. One of Weasley's big, thick hands came down and wrapped around Potter's cock. Draco almost groaned, imagining Weasley's hands on him, and quickly grabbed himself, desperate for release.

_"Now you're thinking about Weasley ravishing you! Get a grip, Malfoy,"_ Draco thought, even as his erection twitched in his hand.

The truth of the matter was, since returning to Hogwarts, Draco had no real problem with Weasley. All of the reasons to hate him seemed to vanish when Draco was faced with death or the death of his parents at the hands of those people who fed him the lies. Sure, he was definitely uncouth, but watching him caressing Harry…no, Potter like that brought about a new bevy of feelings for Weasley that Draco wasn't sure was a sign that he was moving on, or a sign of insanity.

"Come, Harry…" Weasley groaned in Harry's ear, thrusting roughly into him.

Harry arched his back and cried out Ron's name, his nails digging into the wood of the lockers. Ron…Weasley…The Weasel was kissing Potter gently along the jaw line as he convulsed, whispering his name in his partner's ear. Potter sagged a little, and Weasley wrapped his arms around Potter's waist, sitting down on the bench and pulling Potter carefully into his lap. They shared a slow, tender kiss, whispering things to each other that should have made Draco Malfoy disgusted…instead they just made him lonely and jealous.

_And dreaming doesn't do no good  
Cause I don't wanna lie  
That I'm okay and I'm alright  
I'd rather take it and forget it_

Ron Weasley grabbed a handful of crisps from the table and broke them up over his sandwich. Nothing was better than lunch, except maybe Dinner…or breakfast. Breakfast was marvelous. Ron took a bite of the sliced turkey and cheese piece of paradise and sighed contentedly. Nope, definitely Lunch was the best. When Ron opened his eyes, he jumped. Malfoy was staring right at him, his cold gray eyes seeming to drill a hole straight through him. He cocked his head to the side, and the small gesture seemed to scare Malfoy back to his own business.

Ron watched Malfoy take a sip of his chowder, his tongue darting out to catch some liquid that dripped down the handle. Ron was surprised to find he was licking his lips, imagining how that bit of stray soup would taste if he were licking it off of Malfoy's smooth skin. He quickly shook himself out of that thought and grabbed a piece of cherry tart and covered it in cream. He looked over at Harry and smiled at the slow, careful way he always ate his food.

He and Harry were still very secretive about their relationship. The Prophet would wet themselves to know the famous Harry Potter is a poofter, and they just weren't ready to deal with the press yet. Hermione knew, Ginny knew, and despite the irony of their two failed relationships being the ones aware that they are together, they had adjusted to it well. Malfoy, on the other hand, flaunted it. Or rather, Zabini flaunted it and Malfoy was a reluctant victim of his pride, or jealousy, or whatever it was that made his menacing dark eyes cling so tightly to Draco's pale skin. They were the only known gay couple at Hogwarts, and Ron's fist clenched subtly at the thought that Blaise wasn't quite good enough for Draco.

Ron was worried there was something in his pumpkin juice when that thought showed up in his head.

"You alright there, mate?" Harry said, his hand gently resting on Ron's knee for a moment. They both froze when they realized that Malfoy was looking right at them, fire in his eyes. Could he see what they were doing?

"I'm fine…fancy a bit of a walk around the lake?" Ron asked. Harry took one last confused look at Malfoy and nodded, rising quickly to follow Ron out of the doors of the Great Hall.

The late autumn air was cool, and Ron could feel his senses already beginning to return. This thing with Malfoy was maddening, and he was glad that it seemed to only be a momentary lapse in judgment. As they rounded a turn in the lake and made their way to the thicker forests on the north side, Harry suddenly slammed Ron against a tree. Ron saw the feral look in Harry's eyes, grinned, and kissed him hard.

"Mmmmm. Not that I'm complaining, but to what do I owe the pleasure?" Ron asked as Harry kissed along Ron's neck and reached his hands under his jumper.

"My hands are cold," Harry murmured, and Ron squealed in an undignified manner when Harry's icy hands wrapped around his sides.

"Well, my nose is cold," Ron said, dropping to his knees and sticking his head up Harry's shirt. Harry squawked at the intrusion.  
Ron saw the bulge in Harry's jeans and ran his face against it, breathing warmly against Harry's straining member. "Must not be that cold," he whispered, slowly unzipping Harry and reaching into his pants to pull out his hard cock. Ron's mouth watered at the straining flesh, and he quickly wrapped his mouth around Harry.

"Fuck, Ron!" Harry yelled, his fingers gripping Ron's hair. Ron wrapped his hands around Harry's hips and let his fingertips dip below the waist of Harry's pants and caress his arse. After a few moments, though, Harry froze.

"Harry?" Ron said, running soothing circles along Harry's bare skin with his thumbs, worried that Harry was getting fearful of how public they were being.

"I think we're being watched. I opened my eyes, and I swear I saw someone dark behind a tree," Harry said, barely even whispering. Ron knew better than to doubt Harry's instincts, no matter how paranoid they sounded.

"It was Malfoy, wasn't it?" Ron asked carefully. Harry's cock twitched in front of him, getting impossibly hard. He _knew_ Malfoy was looking at them oddly.

"Yes," he groaned. Ron could feel his face heat up and his own arousal strain painfully.

"Might as well give him a show," Ron growled, He pulled Harry away from the tree, ripped down his jeans and pants, and pulled Harry's weeping cock deep into his mouth. He took his long fingers and pulled Harry's cheeks apart, putting him fully on display. Harry groaned, and Ron felt his knees shake. He loved being shown off, and the thought that he was bringing Harry to the edge thrilled Ron. He had a momentary inward sigh at the fact that they couldn't' be more open with their relationship, but  
when Harry started to thrust erratically inside of Ron's mouth, he lost all thought.

Ron's index finger began to toy with Harry's hole, and he tilted his head to the side to see if they still had an audience. He saw another flash of white hair, but it quickly disappeared. He sucked Harry hard, his cheeks collapsing, until Harry spilled warm seed down his throat. Harry lost his balance and collapsed to the ground, Ron holding him up and moving his jeans back over his hips. He kissed Harry softly, running a hand down his jaw.

"Mmmm, Now you," Harry said, his hand ghosting over Ron's hard length. Harry leaned over, unzipping Ron and quickly pulling him out, and Ron threw his head back against the tree he was leaning on. He was so close from the thought of someone watching, of Malfoy of all people watching, that he came very quickly, crying out Harry's name as he convulsed inside his mouth.

When they came to, there was no trace they even had an audience. Ron chalked it up to temporary insanity again, but definitely remembered to play another game like that soon.

_Consider this a warning  
Cause I'll start another fight  
And you'll say it's all alright  
I'll wait for the day when you find I'm too much for you, baby  
So lay your hands over me  
And feel what you only see  
But don't bother wasting your time if you're trying to change me_

"Where have you been?" Blaise's accusatory question hit Draco before he was even all the way into the dorm.

"Walking by the lake," Draco said casually, going over to the mirror to adjust his collar and attempting to look apathetic to the line of questioning. Lucky for Draco, he could cool down his features instantly, a skill born of years living under the thumbs of quick tempered murderers.

"You do sort of smell like the outdoors," Blaise said, rising from the bed and coming over to wrap his arms around Draco's waist. Even in that small gesture, Draco had a flash of Weasley's arms coming around Potter's waist. This had to end. Obviously Blaise wasn't enough. Especially if he couldn't keep his eyes off of the unwashed and tasteless likes of Potter and The Weasel.

As Blaise began to kiss up and down Draco's neck, he tensed…even that didn't feel good anymore. Draco was never a coward, and he waited only mere moments before speaking up to Blaise.

"This isn't going to work out anymore. I would like to end our relationship," Draco said haughtily.

In hindsight, speaking while he was in that position may not have been the best idea. He felt Blaise tense around him, and his grip on Draco's waist became very tight. Draco tried to move away, but found himself rendered quite immobile. His wand was just out of reach.

"What brought this on, Draco?" Blaise said, with startling calmness.

"I'm not happy, I'm not in love, and I've decided it's time to move on," Draco said frankly, trying to keep the tremble from his voice.

"You're mine!" Blaise suddenly shouted, slamming Draco's chest against the wall.

"Like hell I am!" Draco yelled back, struggling under his grip. Blaise had slammed one of Draco's hands against the wall, gripping his wrist painfully tight.

Draco Malfoy was not someone that one could just throw around or subdue.

He managed to free his other hand, bringing his elbow back directly to Blaise's rib cage and causing him to momentarily lose his breath. As he stumbled back, Draco got himself free from the wall and began making his way for the door, hoping that was the end of the struggle. He heard quick steps behind him, and turned around just in time to duck a swing thrown directly at his face. Blaise was quicker than Draco had anticipated, however, and when he rose back up, he took a horrible blow to his cheek. Before he could even grip his face or begin to get dizzy from the hit, he punched Blaise as hard as his right hook would allow directly in the jaw. Blaise stumbled back, hit the wall, and fell to the floor.

Draco walked slowly out of the Slytherin Common Room, pretending to all the world that everything that happened was nothing more than lint on his finely constructed trousers.

When he found an empty, dark corridor to lurk in, Draco began to pace. How had things come to this? Reduced to a common Gryffindor, fist fighting in the dorms, and for what? His voyeuristic notions of affection and fulfillment? He felt like a miserable sop, and this frustrated Draco to no end. He no longer had control over his own life, and he felt like he was spiraling dangerously close to an edge that he was terrified of falling over.

He drew his fist back and hit the wall as hard as he could.

_You're kinda cool but I know better than to break the rules  
Of messin' with a lesson that I'll never learn  
I'll go from bad to worse and later back to better  
But I'll never better bridges that I'm bent to burn_

Ron froze when he heard a faint cracking noise to his right. He was on Prefect rounds, but since the ending of the war, they had become overwhelmingly boring. A fist hitting the wall was a familiar sound to Ron, his own temper often getting the better of him, and he rushed down the corridor to make sure no one was fighting. It was past curfew anyway, and no one should be out of bed. Ron wouldn't dole out a detention, he rarely did that, but he would have to warn the students about being out of their common rooms at this time of night.  
Turning a corner, he almost ran directly into Malfoy. He was shaking slightly, but he lifted his chin. His face was uncharacteristically red and he looked a little disheveled.

"Weasel, to what do I owe this distinct lack of pleasure?" Draco said, but his voice seemed to catch slightly in his throat.

"I heard someone hit a wall," Ron said, ignoring Malfoy's favorite nickname for him.

"Obviously you're as insane as Potter," Malfoy answered, turning on his heels and briskly walking away. Ron noticed that he carried his right hand close to his chest. He caught up with him easily; his legs significantly longer than most men's, even Malfoy couldn't beat him with his tall, slender form.

"I can fix that. I'm right familiar with healing up broken knuckles," Ron said, putting a hand on Malfoy's shoulder.

"I'm sure your dragging knuckles can become a bit of a hassle, Weasley…"

"Episkey," Ron said, pointing it at Draco's hand. He cried out momentarily, pulling his hand back, but not before Ron did a quick healing spell on his injured hand.

"Fine. Thank you. Goodnight," Malfoy said, turning to walk away again.

"Want me to do your face too?" Ron asked suddenly. He had noticed a bruise beginning to form near Malfoy's eye and realized he must have been in some sort of fight.

Despite the rotten git's attitude, Ron felt sorry for Malfoy. His parents were in prison, his friends had all but disappeared, and he was an outcast. Harry had explained to Ron what happened on the Astronomy Tower, and Ron knew very well himself that Draco was not fighting against them when Voldemort fell. Harry's argument about Draco being a victim of his parent's cruel ambitions seemed likely. He was still a pompous wanker, but he didn't have to walk around with a black eye when Ron knew perfectly good healing spells for fights. He did have five brothers after all.

"Sweet Merlin, is it that bad that even the most unobservant can see it?" Malfoy said, moving his hand up to his face.

"It's not so bad yet, but soon the blood will all rush to the surface and swell up your face as purple as an eggplant," Ron said, reaching out and taking Draco's pointed chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"Charming," Draco said, not pulling away from Ron.

"Did you get in a bit of a scrap with some arsehole Slytherin?" Ron said conversationally as he examined the swelling on Draco's face.  
"If you could even call it a scrap, I believe he's still trying to get his breath back," Draco said, puffing out his chest proudly.

"Good on you! _I_ always thought you were a weak little woman," Ron said. Draco looked at him sharply, and Ron bit back his words a little, thinking maybe the time had ended for jabs in that moment.

"Well I doubt Blaise will be coming around me any time soon," Malfoy murmured.

"Blaise did this! Your bloody boyfriend hit you?" Ron said, surprised that he was a little outraged.

"Didn't have a lot of chance to get in a second hit, so what does it matter? I'd be struck tragic to lose a lover like me as well," Malfoy said, but his voice had lost any edge of arrogance it had held.

This time, Ron cast the spell nonverbally, running his wand over the burgeoning bruise until it all but disappeared. A chill ran over him when Draco breathed out a sigh of relief, and the warm air ghosted across his collarbone. Ron ran his hand over the healed spot on Draco's pale face, and Draco closed his eyes for a moment. Ron didn't want to move his hand away…not unless it was to push Malfoy back against the wall and snog him senselessly.

The thought sent Ron into a panic, and he was walking briskly away from a confused looking Malfoy before he could have another barmy notion.

_And dreaming doesn't do no good  
Cause I don't wanna lie  
That I'm okay and I'm alright  
I'd rather take it and forget it_

Draco decided the best course of action would be to walk away, just as quickly as Weasley, in the other direction. He lifted his hand to his cheek, disturbed by the lingering tingle and the goosepimples currently invading his skin. He was tripping completely over the edge now, and things had gone beyond the realm of interesting…all the way into unfathomable. As he approached the portrait leading to the Prefects Bathroom, he concluded that a hot bath would be just the ticket, and he could avoid Blaise better that way.  
Of course Potter was already in the bath.

Of course Potter's head was thrown back and his soft moans were filling the room.

Of Bloody Fucking COURSE Potter was wanking!

Draco stood frozen by the towels, unable to pull his eyes away from the way the water undulated under Harry's…no, Potter's movements, or the way his chest rose and fell quickly, like he could come undone at any moment. Hadn't he just gotten his fill by the lake? The thought that Potter was so insatiable made Draco's already filling cock get hard in almost an instant. He wanted to touch himself so badly, but had no place to cover himself and watch quietly as he had been doing.

One of Potter's hands came out of the water and began worrying his nipple, pinching and caressing it. Draco's hand twitched, and he reached down to cup the bulge in his trousers. He hissed, his cock still raw from the furious wanking session he had out by the lake, but he wanted…needed more all of a sudden. He bit his lip to bite back a moan, certain it would bounce off of the tiled walls and right into Potter's ears.

"Draco," Potter moaned, throwing his head back.

Draco gasped loudly, and Potter's head immediately snapped in his direction. Even without those awful glasses, Draco was sure he'd been spotted. Harry…no, Potter looked him straight in the eye for one split moment, then he licked his lips and continued moving his hands beneath the soapy, fragrant water. He fought to keep his eyes open to look at Draco, and Draco felt his knees begin to give way. He gripped the towel stand for support with one hand, reaching his other hand into his trousers. He moaned loudly when Potter said his name again.  
After a few more delirious moments, Potter whispered "I'm gonna come," as his body began to convulse.

"Yes," Draco groaned, spilling seed over his hand as he watched Harry throw his head back and cry out, hand eventually stilling below the surface of the water.

_Consider this a warning  
Cause I'll start another fight  
And you'll say it's all alright  
I'll wait for the day when you find I'm too much for you, baby_

The warm water felt amazing on Harry's joints. Quidditch practices were getting brutal, and that little tryst by the lake had done his body in. Harry smiled at the memory of Ron taking him behind that large tree, his cock giving a surprising but not unwelcome twitch as he thought of the way Ron's mouth wrapped warmly around his cock. When Harry's thoughts drifted to Malfoy, and the real possibility that he did see the Slytherin watching them, Harry was fully hard yet again.

He closed his eyes, thinking about how Ron spread him open, put him on display for their probable audience, and moaned loudly. Harry was sure he would hear someone come in, and wanking in the bath was downright private after this afternoon's activities. He imagined that Draco had come out of the woods, had openly watched he and Ron together. Harry's fantasy reached out farther, and he pictured Ron bending him over, preparing him right there on the leaf-covered ground.

Draco wouldn't be able to resist Harry, and he would rush forward, desperate to take Harry. Ron, of course, would give Malfoy a hard time, all the while fingering Harry's asshole. Draco wouldn't be able to stand it, and Ron would finally command Draco to take his trousers down and fuck Harry raw. Draco would gladly obey Ron, taking Harry swiftly there in the open air.  
Harry couldn't help but moan Draco's name then.

A sharp gasp drew Harry out of his fantasy to see the object himself standing there, his hand over the zip of his trousers, and his eyes staring widely back at Harry. Harry paused for a moment, unsure of what he should do, but the dark unadulterated lust in Draco's cool gray eyes told him that he needed to keep going. Harry looked him in the eye, thinking about what it would be like to have Draco inside of him, and began to pump his fist up and down in the water.

Draco's face was red, his eyes hooded, and his bottom lip was firmly between his teeth. He reached down and pulled out his cock, and Harry marveled at how thick and pink it was. He wanted desperately to taste it. It wasn't as big as Ron's, but different, and perfect, and just as desirable. Harry could feel his orgasm coiling in his abdomen.

"I'm gonna come," Harry whispered, causing a raw "Yes" to be pulled from Draco's mouth. He came hard, the thought of Draco's cock going in and out of him invading his mind.

When the fog in his head cleared, Harry quickly got out of the bath, wrapped a towel around himself and fetched his glasses. Draco was still standing there, his wand shaking in his hand as he cast a quick cleansing charm. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again and meeting Harry's eyes. They stood there, frozen for what could have been a few seconds but felt like an eternity, and then Harry took one tentative step forward.

"Draco, I…"

Harry couldn't say another word, as Draco had quickly exited without even looking back.

After drying himself off a little better, putting on a clean pair of jeans and a tee shirt, and slipping his trainers on over his bare feet, Harry made his way back to Gryffindor Tower. Ron should be done with his rounds, and if they were lucky, Dean, Seamus and Neville would still be at that party they were talking about in the Ravenclaw common room. Harry really needed to talk to Ron about this.

He didn't feel guilty, because he hadn't done anything. He wasn't ashamed for being attracted to someone else, as he was positive he still loved and wanted Ron. However, he was slightly unhinged at the fact that it was Malfoy. Even more disturbing was the fact that he wanted Ron there too, and the thought alone could send arousal sweeping through him in an instant. Ron and Harry always promised to talk everything out, and Harry wasn't about to be a coward about this.

They sat down to a quick game of chess to unwind, but as it always was with Ron, the game was over before Harry could even get remotely unwound.

"Checkmate," Ron said. Harry just looked up at him and smiled ruefully. "So what's on your mind, then? You seem awful stuck in your own brain right now."

"I don't even know where to begin," Harry said, exasperated.

"Best just get on with it, or you're going to be squirming all night…I know you," Ron said, setting up the chessboard for another game.

"Draco Malfoy watched me wank," Harry blurted, looking around the room and realizing he had just said that out loud. No one was looking at them, so Harry cast a 'muffliato' and reluctantly turned back to face Ron's expression.

The tips of Ron's ears were red, his hands clenched in to fists at his side. He was angry however, as exemplified by his heavy lidded expression and the dark, lusty glare he was shooting at Harry. Harry felt his arousal coming from just Ron's stare, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He met Ron's eyes and reveled in the searing heat.

"What did you do?" Ron whispered.

"Just let him watch while I thought about what it would be like to have you bend me over and prep me for him to fuck me," Harry breathed.

"Upstairs, now," Ron practically growled, and Harry couldn't get up the stairs fast enough. The dorm was empty…but Harry doubted he would have even noticed if anyone else was there.

Ron ripped down Harry's jeans, pushing him on the bed and pulling them over his ankles. He didn't even bother taking down Harry's pants, just tore them off of Harry's body. Harry cried out, needing Ron to take him in that moment more than anything. Harry's legs were still dangling off of his bed and Ron pulled out his throbbing cock and stroked it in his hand a few times. He summoned the lube from his nightstand and slicked his cock with it.

He lifted up Harry's legs while he still stood beside the bed, and Harry kept his legs wrapped around Ron's waist when Ron needed to let go to line himself up with Harry's entrance. Harry shook a little bit at the thought of no preparation, but was so desperate to have Ron that he didn't voice his concerns. Ron, however, entered him agonizingly slowly, letting Harry adjust inch by inch, until they were both moaning in need for more.

"You okay?" Ron groaned, meeting Harry's eyes. Harry nodded and Ron pulled back, pushing into him hard. Harry called out his name. They hadn't performed a locking charm or a silencing spell, but Harry didn't care at this point…he just wanted more. Ron grabbed Harry's calves, keeping his legs apart as he drove into him.

"You want him to watch as I slam into you like this? Do you want him to see how fucking hot you are?" Ron groaned.

"Yes," Harry hissed as Ron kept up his torturous pace.

"Want him to fuck you while I watch, want him to drill into that perfect arse?" Ron asked again, his voice deep and rough.

"Please," Harry cried, gripping the sheets.

"What if you had one cock in your ass and another in your mouth?" Ron croaked.

"Use me," Harry moaned, canting his hips up to meet Ron's thrusts.

"Or, I could make you watch while I fucked the smug right out of that whiny little Deatheater, made him scream," Ron whispered this menacingly in Harry's ear. He wrapped his long fingers around Harry's cock, and with one stroke, Harry was coming, repeating yes over and over again like Ron was still asking questions. Ron came inside of Harry with a loud, long moan, nearly collapsing on him on the bed.  
They lay next to each other, catching their breath for a moment, then Ron rolled up on to his side and ran his hand along the side of Harry's sweaty face.

"I love you," he whispered. "I will admit, the thought has crossed my mind a time or two."

"Oh really? I never would have thought," Harry smiled and Ron punched him in the arm. "So it's okay?"

"Nothing's going to change us. After all the shite we've been through, nothing will break us up," Ron said. "That's not to say we can't add a little something…even if that little something is an insufferable prat. He does have a nice arse."

"That he does…Where does that leave us?" Harry asked, his uncertainty crushed under the weight of Ron's hands running soothing circles over his chest.

"He's obviously too scared or proud to say anything, so we'll need to torture him out of hiding," Ron smiled slyly.

"I like where this is going," said Harry, reveling in the chance to make some trouble with Ron like they did when they were younger.

_So lay your hands over me  
And feel what you only see  
But don't bother wasting your time if you're trying to change me_

The next five days were agony for Draco. He quelled under the death glares that Blaise shot him, but he never backed down, keeping his chin up and his nose in the air whenever Blaise was near. He was happy to be free of the stifling relationship, but it shed a bright light on the reality that Draco had no one else. He was completely alone. He sat in silence, ate in silence, and slept utterly alone.  
Adding to this, Draco's wanks had been desperate with need. He kept picturing Harry, Weasley, and any combination thereof. He wanted so badly to take, and be taken by them…to become a part of whatever fire was lighting them, even if it was just once. He wanked furiously every night, curtains closed and privacy spells all around, calling out for Harry (never for Potter) and even saying "Ron" a time or two…much to his personal horror.

After a particularly vigorous wank, Draco decided he needed a distraction, and made his way over to the library. He had a three foot essay for NEWT Charms to begin if he wanted to finish it on time, and he found that his mind needed to do something to get away from Harry and Ron.

No such luck befell Draco. After he had written only a few paragraphs, the specters of his imagination these past five days came into the library and took up a table right in Draco's line of sight. They sat next to each other, but far enough apart not to rouse suspicion. They both pulled out their own Charms textbooks and set about working quietly. Draco breathed in relief at their boring activities and went back to his work.

Suddenly, Draco heard a soft moan, and his head shot up. Ron was reaching toward Harry with the feathered end of his quill, dragging it slowly across the exposed skin of Harry's neck. The brunette wizard's head was back, and he was moaning quietly at the feeling. Ron's tongue was pressed between his lips, and when Draco's eyes looked under the table, he could see the hard bulges straining against both wizards' jeans. Draco had to swallow back a moan when Ron carefully moved Harry's shirt up and stuck the quill underneath it, causing Harry to squirm and writhe in his seat. Ron continued his ministrations, only pausing when Madam Pince walked by, until Harry was a quivering mass next to him. Then, he whispered something in Harry's ear and disappeared behind a bookshelf.

Moments later, Harry disappeared in the same spot. Draco knew he shouldn't, but he followed Harry into a dark corner of the library.  
Harry was kissing Ron hungrily, Ron's back pressed tightly against a high bookshelf and his hands on Harry's back. Ron pulled Harry close to him, moaning when Harry began to kiss along his neck. Harry was thrusting against Ron's thigh, and Ron gave an echoing thrust against Harry's abdomen. When Ron's hand went up the back of Harry's shirt, Harry let out a beautiful sigh, and Draco needed to touch himself at the sight those two made.

Ron leaned over to whisper something in Harry's ear and before Draco could even take in what was happening, Ron had gripped his wrist and flung him into the corner. Ron loomed over him menacingly, while Harry stood to one side of Ron to block Draco's view of what was going on. They cast a silencing spell on him, and Draco began to panic.

"Like what you see, Malfoy?" Ron said through his teeth, though something about his expression didn't seem in place with the tone of his voice. Draco didn't move, frozen on the spot, and flinched, lifting his hands to his face when Ron made a sudden motion.  
Suddenly, a warm, calloused hand wrapped around one of his raised ones, and a larger, smoother hand took the other. They lowered Draco's hands away from his face slowly. Harry began to kiss Draco's knuckles.

"Ron said you broke your hand," Harry said in between kisses. Draco just swallowed and nodded. "Sorry you and Blaise had a fight."

"Healed up okay?" Ron asked, his thumb brushing over the side of Draco's face. Draco nodded again.

"You never answered his question," Harry said.

"Like what you see, Malfoy?" Ron asked again, whispering it this time.

"So much…" Draco moaned, and suddenly Harry's lips were pressed to his.

Draco was only numb with shock for a moment before his entire body felt like it was engulfed in an adrenaline-fueled fire. He grabbed the back of Harry's neck and kissed him back hungrily, opening his mouth and enjoying Harry's sweet taste as their tongues danced around each other. Harry pressed his body close to Draco's, and everything about Harry invaded Draco's senses: He felt both hard and soft under his hands, he tasted like pumpkin juice, he smelled like something spicy and slightly wooden, the soft little moans coming from the back of his throat rang like bells in Draco's ears, and even the blackness of his eyelids seemed to pop with color in some way. Draco pulled away, overwhelmed and startled by the entire situation. He looked over to see Ron looking at a piece of worn parchment, his face flushed.

"We're clear, Harry," Ron whispered. Suddenly, Draco was being simultaneously dragged and pushed into a door off of the Restricted Section that he had never seen before. The room was thickly dark, but he heard Ron and Harry cast locking and silence spells. After a strange clicking noise, balls of subdued light invaded the ceiling like lamps with no base to speak of. Draco was rendered speechless, confused, and achingly aroused.

There were a couple of chairs and end tables in the center of a room lined with bookshelves. Harry pulled out his wand and transfigured the chairs into large, fluffy couches, turning around and smiling beatifically at Draco. He walked toward Draco again, and Draco backed away until he back hit the wall. Harry pressed his body against the trapped wizard, and Draco couldn't help but moan as his erection brushed up against Harry's obvious arousal. As Harry began to kiss up Draco's neck, he had a panicked thought and his eyes darted to Ron.  
"I'm no fool, Draco, despite what you might think. I've seen the way you look at Harry, and after what happened in the prefects bathroom, I'm positive you want this," Ron said, his eyes darkening and a smile curling along his wide mouth.

"He…he told you," Draco said, still nervous that at any moment Ron was going to hex his bollocks off.

"He's fucking gorgeous, isn't he?" Ron said, leaning in and kissing Harry. The look of ecstasy on Harry's face when Ron's tongue licked the pulse point on his neck was enough to make Draco groan and begin to attack the other side of Harry's neck. Harry let out a long, luxurious moan that made Draco's cock become impossibly harder. "You want him."

"You seem okay with this prospect…Weasley," Draco said, pulling away from Harry for a second.

"Look at his face, he's aching for it…it's magnificent," Ron whispered, running his hand down the front of Harry's clothes and slowly unzipping his trousers. Harry let out a long moan and buried his face in Draco's shoulder. "Feel how bad he's aching for it."

Draco wrapped his hand around Harry's cock and they both groaned loudly. He saw Ron move behind Harry and begin to kiss his neck and run his hands over Harry's chest. Harry leaned back into Ron's embrace, thrusting into Draco's hand. Draco looked down at Harry's weeping cock and his mouth watered. He dropped to his knees, thinking of that day by the lake, and gripped Harry's ass, pulling him close enough to take Harry's entire length in his mouth. Harry gasped and pushed forward again, but Draco gripped his arse to keep him steady. Draco nearly leapt from his spot and pulled away from Harry when he felt Ron's bulge brush up against his knuckles. Ron stilled for a moment too, but Harry was too busy writhing and moaning to pay attention to anything else.

Draco felt something move against his hands, and suddenly he was touching Harry's bare skin. Ron was deftly pulling down Harry's jeans, kissing along the way, but he waved his wand when he got to the feet, and Harry was suddenly and gloriously naked. Draco ran his hands over the prickling dark hair on Harry's arse, letting it tickle his fingers. He heard a shuffling, and opened his eyes to see Ron remove his shirt and shoes…but nothing else. Draco tried to ignore the disappointment in his chest. As unlikely as this whole thing was, if he started to really want The Weasel, he knew he'd had to check himself into the Janus Thickey ward.

"Please…I don't…I can't come yet…I won't last," Harry suddenly whimpered above him. Draco took one last lick over the tip of Harry's cock and stood up. His hands shook as he began to undo the buttons of his vest. Harry reached out and began to pull at the buttons too, and when the vest and the white dress shirt he had underneath it were open, he felt Ron pull them off of his shoulders. The temporary warmth of Ron's skin filled Draco with another moment of longing, and he had to shake his head slightly to avoid making a fool of himself. Harry was kissing Draco's chest slowly, and Draco shivered as he saw Harry was kissing right along his Sectumsempra scar.

"He said it wouldn't scar…" Harry's green eyes bored through Draco's, regret marring his features.

"I can live with mine," Draco whispered, his hand ghosting over the faded white scar on Harry's forehead. Harry leaned into his touch for a moment.

"Want you to fuck me, Draco," Harry moaned, thrusting his naked erection against Draco's clothed one and beginning to undo his belt. Draco almost fell to his knees again, this time out of weakness, at hearing Harry say his first name for the first time in memory.

"Say it again…oh Gods just say it again please," Draco found himself moaning pathetically, but he didn't care.

"Draco," Harry whispered, shoving Draco's pants over his waist. A muttered spell and Draco was now fully nude as well. Draco reached down into his discarded clothes, brandished his wand, and turned a couch into a simple bed before practically shoving Harry down onto it.

"Nice Transfiguration work, Malfoy," Ron mumbled.

"Some of us are just more highly skilled that others," Draco said, without his usual Weasley-appointed malice.

"I'll show you skill," Ron said, climbing on top of Harry and holding himself up with one hand while he simultaneous stroked Harry and kissed him hard. Harry was a quivering mess by the time Ron pulled away. Ron eased Harry's knees apart and pressed his wand to the palm of his hand. A dollop of clear liquid formed in his hand and he coated his fingers with it. As he teased Harry's entrance, Draco began to stroke himself in earnest, his body quivering in anticipation of finally being inside of Harry. Watching Ron's impossibly long fingers go in and out of him only heightened the need.

Finally, Ron crawled up the bed and began to gently kiss Harry, whispering unheard endearments into Harry's ear while his hand ran comfortingly over his ribs and abdomen. Draco slid forward, running his hands up and down Harry's thighs before lining himself up at Harry's entrance. He looked down at Harry, to meet his eyes…to be sure this was still happening. Harry just bit his lip and thrust his hips forward.

"Fuck!" Draco shouted as he slid into Harry's tight channel. He had never been inside of anyone before, and the feeling was so amazing he thought he could stay in that second for a lifetime. However, he soon ached to move, to pound in and out of Harry until they both came screaming, and when Harry moved his hips up again, Draco pulled out and in experimentally. He could feel the heat already coiling at the base of his spine and he continued his slow and intense movements. Harry's back was arching into Ron's hands, one hand gripping the headboard and one hand clenching around Ron's forearm.

When Draco started moving faster, and the sounds of skin slapping punctuated their moans, Ron moved away from Harry slightly, biting his lip and moaning deeply in the back of his throat, as though he was fighting with something. Ron opened his eyes and was watching with unguarded fire as Draco continued in and out of Harry, and as though he was letting go of something, he quickly unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock.

Draco had to fight back from moaning Ron's name…his FIRST name…loudly at the sight of his large, pink cock. It was large, quite large, and it was rigid and purple, like he could come at any second. Draco wanted to touch him so badly that he had to grip Harry's leg more tightly. Draco's eyes locked with Ron's, he had been caught staring. Even as Ron was biting his lip and pumping himself, he looked mildly shocked that Draco was looking his way. Draco was shocked himself, but as his body began to go over the edge, as Harry moaned and whimpered underneath him, and as Ron's cock throbbed there in his line of vision…Draco resolved to let every bit of his apprehension go.  
Draco Malfoy reached out and wrapped his long, elegant fingers around Ron Weasley's aching cock.

Ron's deep voice vibrated as a moan ripped from his lips. Harry's eyes popped open, and when he saw Ron gripping the headboard and Draco pumping his large cock, Harry reached down, and with one stroke he was coming, repeating both of their names over and over again. The feeling of Harry's muscles clenching around Draco sent him over the edge, he came hard, deep within Harry. His hand never let go of Ron. When Draco opened his eyes, Ron's face was dripping with sweat and he was biting his lip very hard, and Harry's hand was running up and down his leg.

Suddenly, a sated looking Harry rolled onto his side, uncaring of the mess across his stomach, and took Ron into his mouth..though he only made it about half way, leaving plenty of room for Draco's hand to continue. Ron threw his head back, leaving a sparsely freckled, pale neck exposed. Draco couldn't help it; he moved closer and began kissing along Ron's smooth skin. His free hand went to Ron's back, hairless, smooth, and rippling underneath his touch. He may have been ridiculously thin, but he was broad and solid in a way that Draco was beginning to find irresistible. That notion immediately disturbed Draco.

What disturbed him more was the fact that his spent cock was already filling up and desperate for more just from touching Ron and making him moan. Harry sat up and cast that now famous spell, and suddenly Ron was nude. His eyes popped open and he looked slightly horrified and a little nervously at Draco. Draco knew he was already drowning, he might as well, enjoy the water.

Draco pressed his naked body to Ron's side, both of them taking a deep breath at the same time, and Ron turning to look at him with deep blue eyes. Draco put a hand up to Ron's face and leaned in, kissing him softly, tentatively. He felt Ron's hand go to his waist even as his breath hitched, so Draco deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping across Ron's soft lips. Where Harry's lips were dry, his hands calloused, and his muscles hard, Ron was smooth all over, the muscular planes of his body acquiescing a little more at the touch. Draco found himself enjoying sweeping his touch over Ron's body. And the way he could hear Harry moaning around Ron's cock watching them just made Draco want more.

He felt Ron's large hands move across the bare flesh of his arse, and chills went down Draco's spine. When Ron's fingers dipped into Draco's cleft, he couldn't help but press his hips back. He heard Harry's mouth leave Ron's cock as Harry went over to Draco, kissing below his navel and reaching to spread him opened for Ron. Draco leaned forward slightly, as he was kneeling on the bed, and resting his hand on Harry's shoulder. When Ron's finger breached him, Draco cried out, pushing against him. Ron took his time, pumping a long finger in and out of Draco before adding a second and curling them to hit a spot that made Draco see stars even with his eyes opened. He wanted Ron so bad he nearly shook.

"Ron…please…" Draco said, and he felt Ron jump slightly at hearing his name.

"What do you want?" He moaned, kissing Draco's shoulder blade as he pressed a third finger in and pumped in and out.

"Want you inside of me," he whispered, leaning down to kiss Harry and give Ron better access. Harry moved slightly, positioning Draco on his elbows, his arse exposed. Ron whispered the spell again, coating Draco with some of the lubricant he had used on Harry. Draco was shocked to discover that he wasn't even horrified with the realization that Ron must have spit on his fingers. He felt one of Ron's hands curl around his hip, and then felt the head of his cock teasing at Draco's entrance. He tried to push back against his, but Ron had a good hold on Draco, rendering him incapable of moving things along.

Draco was glad Ron stopped him from thrusting wildly, because as Ron's cock breached his entrance, he felt the familiar painful burn of being fucked for the first time or fucked with little preparation. Draco tried to move past the pain, biting his lip hard to keep from whimpering.

"Christ, you're tight," Ron moaned, and Draco let out a small cry when Ron pushed in a little farther. Suddenly, Ron froze.

"Have you ever?" Ron said carefully.

"Yes…just only ever…with…" Draco's heart was racing at being slowly entered.

Suddenly, Ron's warm body was draped over Draco's back, his lips at Draco's ear.

"It's okay. Just relax. Tell me if it's too much…it's okay, Draco," He said, kissing Draco's shoulder with so much tenderness that Draco thought he might cry out even louder for a completely different reason. Draco felt the tension slowly leave his body and soon Ron's flesh was pressed up against his. He moved in and out very slowly.

Eventually, Draco got used to the intrusion and began to moan in earnest. He flexed his back to give Ron better access, earning a guttural groan from Ron and causing him to pick up the pace. Draco cried out again when he felt a hand wrap around his throbbing cock. Harry began to kiss him hard, pumping him in time with Ron's rhythm. Draco's body began to tighten, and he could feel his orgasm coming again.

"Gonna come," he moaned out, and he felt Ron lean over once more.

"Come for me, Draco," Ron said, his gravelly voice sending even more heat through Draco's body.

Draco came wildly, liquid soaking Harry's hand. A moment later, he felt Ron filling him, groaning and bending down to burying his head in Draco's neck. When their breathing calmed, Ron pulled out of Draco slowly, earning him a small whimper. Harry cast a spell cleaning them all up and Draco rolled over, collapsing on the transfigured couch.

Harry curled against Draco's side, and Draco couldn't help but take his hand and pull it up to his chest. Ron lay down behind Harry, wrapping an arm around his waist and whispering a quick "Love you," before kissing him softly on the neck.

"No one will find us here, if you wanted to stay," Harry said quietly.

When Draco didn't hear anything from Ron, he conjured a blanket large enough to drape over all three of them. He closed his eyes and drew Harry's hand up to his, kissing his fingertips.

When he woke the next morning, both men were still there in a huddled mass of tangled limbs. He cringed a little when Ron stirred and sat up, waiting for the look of regret to cloud his features. Instead, he just smirked and shook Harry's shoulder lightly. Harry groaned and swatted his hand away.

"Come on, mate, I'm starving!" Ron said, shaking Harry more vigorously.

"I'd have to admit to being a bit peckish myself," Draco said, his stomach aching slightly from being empty.

"Oh, an ambush, I see!" Harry said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Ron handed him his glasses.

"You two would know something about ambushes, wouldn't you," Draco murmured. To his credit, Ron chuckled and gave him a slight leer.

"Maybe next time you'll arrive a little more willingly," Ron said, and Draco's entire body froze at the mention of next time. He sat still for a moment hand on Harry's knee, contemplating a regular occurrence of being with these two men. Remembering how wanted, and ravaged, and frankly how cared for he felt when he fell asleep last night, he almost felt he needed a next time.

"Oh I'll be coming very willingly," Draco said slyly, elegantly slipping his naked body out from under the blanket and going to fetch his clothing. He smirked to himself as he felt both sets of eyes watch him make his way around the room.


End file.
